


Prefects' Bathroom

by torestoreamends



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Post-Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Prefects' Bathroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 19:24:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10556388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torestoreamends/pseuds/torestoreamends
Summary: Scorpius takes Albus on a trip to the Prefects’ Bathroom, where general shenanigans including messing around with bubbles, making out, and more ensue.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in August as a birthday present for my friend tommackley on tumblr. I don't know why it's taken me so long to post it here!
> 
> Beta'd by Brief_and_Dreamy.

The portrait swings open and Albus follows Scorpius into the most beautiful bathroom he’s ever seen in his life. It’s all perfect, polished white marble that reflects the pale golden light cast by the ornate chandelier suspended above a deep pool. The pool itself is tiled with delicate mosaics, and around the edge are what must be a hundred gold taps of all shapes and sizes, each set with a different jewel.

“I don’t know why you think it’s so impressive,” Albus says casually. “You must have ten of these at home.”

Scorpius turns and looks back at him. “You’ve seen our bathroom. It’s nothing like this, this is brilliant. Look.” He darts over to one of the taps, apparently his favourite one, and turns it on. Out shoot some water and jets of bubbles that bounce across the surface of whatever they touch, leaping across the bottom of the pool for now as it begins to fill up. “I  _wish_  we had one of these at home.”

“Do they all do something different?” Albus asks, hugging his fluffy green bathrobe around himself and coming over to kneel beside Scorpius at the taps. 

“Yes they do, and I’ve been finely honing the perfect combination of bubbles for the past two- Albus!”

Albus, ignoring him completely, begins turning on taps. A thick, icy blast of dense white foam mingles with bright green bubbles so light they soar up out of the pool and hover around the ceiling, making the air smell of apple blossom. 

“Do you not want the optimum bath time experience?” Scorpius asks, slightly miffed.

Albus looks up at him and grins. “I’d rather play with the taps. Anyway, all I need for it to be perfect is you.”

Scorpius sighs. “You’re lucky you’re so smooth.”

“I’m lucky I’ve had a willing participant to practice on. Come on, help me turn on these taps.“ 

Together they scramble around the edge of the pool and turn on as many of the taps as they can. Heady lavender scent joins the apple already in the air. Glowing yellow bubbles light the room up like the sun, tiny little brightly jewel coloured ones skitter across the surface of the water and clump together into a shimmering mass. There are bubbles the size of Quaffles, and bubbles almost too small to see. Bubbles that stick together in a rainbow spectrum, hardy enough for Albus to scoop them up and dump them in Scorpius’s hair where they cling and refuse to be dislodged even when he shakes his head violently. 

Eventually the pool is full, and the air is full of a hundred different scents, clouds of bubbles floating everywhere, the water a mass of colour and texture. In fact there are so many bubbles that it’s difficult to imagine there’s any water under there at all. Albus sits on the edge and tries to scoop some of the foam aside to see if there really is water, but it isn’t an easy task.

"It’s very deep,” Scorpius tells him. “If it’s the diving board you’re worried about, it’s perfectly safe.”

Albus looks round. “I didn’t think Hogwarts was concerned with health and safety." 

Scorpius smiles. "Not for important things, but apparently they are when it comes to diving boards.” He’s holding his wand in his hand and is walking slowly round the edge of the pool, conjuring tiny, flickering candles that burn with a crystal white flame. They send pale light dancing through the room, refracting through the bubbles so the walls glow with rainbows that mingle with the sunshine gold of the chandelier. 

Albus passes a finger through one of the candle’s flame’s. It’s gently warm to touch, and he guesses you could scoop the fire up in your hand without it hurting.

“Are these waterproof?”

“Yes,” Scorpius glances up at him and frowns. “You’ve got that strange look… What are you up to?”

Albus gives him an innocent smile and walks around to the diving board. He folds his robe and slippers by the wall and strolls onto the board. “Why do you think I’m up to something?”

“Because I know you, Albus Severus Potter, and that look means-”

Albus jumps high off the diving board, curling his body up into a tight canon ball. He hurtles down into the water and hits with an almighty splash, sending a tidal wave of bubbles and water washing across the bathroom. Grinning, he surfaces and shakes his the water from his eyes and hair. 

Scorpius has managed to flatten himself against the wall at the last second and avoid getting soaked. He gives a slightly despairing sigh as he picks his way across the now sodden floor. “The general principle is that the water stays in the bath,” he says. “That’s what makes it a  _good_  bath, the fact that there’s lots of deep, warm water.”

“And the taps are here so we can fill it back up,” Albus says, swimming to the side (it’s far too deep to touch the bottom) and smiling up at Scorpius. “Are you coming in? It’s really nice." 

"I don’t think there’s much point. There’s more water out here than there is in there.”

“Scorpius…” Albus reaches out a hand to him. “Come on.”

“Alright, give me a second.” He turns his back to Albus and strips off his own robe, delicately depositing it in a heap next to Albus’s perfectly folded.

Albus crosses his arms on the edge of the pool and watches him. It must have been at least a year since the first time he saw Scorpius naked, and it hasn’t become any less pleasurable. Scorpius wears clothes well these days, but with them in the way you don’t get the full picture of exactly how long and slender his legs are, you don’t see the strength of the muscles that shift in his back when he bends over, you don’t appreciate how his ass is flat and slightly bony but he wears it so well, to the point where Albus can’t imagine their being a nicer ass anywhere in the world.

He’s hardly a Grecian statue. He’s too scrawny for that, too many sharp angles, although his recent Quidditch exploits have started to fill him out and strengthen him a bit. It might be the best thing Quidditch has ever done for Albus.

Scorpius returns to the side of the pool and sits down, toes carving trails through the bubbles. Albus treads water in front of him, gazing up at him. He’s almost as pale as the marble he’s sitting on, but it’s been sunny outside the last few days so his arms and face have a bit of colour, and the soft light in the room give him a healthy, peachy glow. The setting sun shining in through the mermaid window behind him makes his hair shine pale gold. 

Albus takes in the ripple of his ribs beneath his skin, the way his biceps’ tense as he braces his hands on the edge of the pool and leans forward slightly, soft curls of hair feathering down his forehead and over his eyes. Gently, Albus reaches out a hand and trails it down one of his calves, every single one of the invisible blond hairs there tickling his fingers.

Scorpius shivers and looks down at him. “Are you objectifying me?" 

Albus shakes his head. "Admiring you. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?”

Albus nods. “Enjoying the way you look doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten there’s a person in there. In fact, you’re a person I like very much. And I’m surprised you haven’t told me the whole history of this bathroom yet. I thought that would be the first thing you’d do.”

“Well,” Scorpius says, reaching out to ruffle Albus’s hair, “it was built when the castle was. They think it might have been Slytherin’s work. There’s speculation that the pipe work in here is connected directly with the Chamber of Secrets itself. Maybe once upon a time it was his personal bathroom.”

“And now it’s ours,” Albus says, smiling and gently taking Scorpius’s hand.

“Well it isn’t our personal bathroom, but.” Scorpius gently tangles his fingers together with Albus’s and for a moment they both examine their interlinked hands, then Albus gives a gentle tug.

“Come in. I can’t kiss you while you’re up there." 

Scorpius looks down at him, eyes a soft silver as he smiles fondly. "Is that what you’re after?”

Albus shrugs. “Kissing is a start.” He keeps pulling on Scorpius’s hand until finally he slides into the water. For a moment he disappears beneath the surface. When he comes back up his wet blond hair is so much darker, and crowned with a halo of tiny bubbles. Albus smiles and gently brushes them away, then he trails his hand down Scorpius’s shoulder and hovers there, close to him.

“What are you waiting for?” Scorpius asks, searching Albus’s face, the light of all those white candles reflecting like a field of stars in his eyes.

Albus strokes the ends of his now wet hair, just the little wispy bits on the back of his neck that are usually soft as down. “You." 

For a moment Scorpius blinks at him, then he gives a very pleased little smile. "Normally you’re so bossy. Which is a good thing, definitely. But… What’s brought this on?" 

Another little shrug. "You seem to have a plan, which so far I’ve done a good job of ruining. I wanted to give you a chance." 

Scorpius catches his breath. "O-okay.” It comes out with a slightly high pitched nervous excitement, and he licks his lips. They’re a tiny bit cracked, because he never drinks enough, but they’re pink and soft, and Albus knows from experience, incredibly kissable. 

“I didn’t,” Scorpius says quietly, voice trembling a little, “have a plan. Not really. But I can improvise.” He moves closer in the water and Albus can feel the swirl of motion where he’s kicking to keep himself up. “Not that I’ve ever been very good at improvising…” His hands flutter anxiously near Albus’s waist. He can feel them ghosting around, feel the wake they leave behind brushing through the water near his skin. Then finally they settle, and a moment later Scorpius is kissing him. 

Scorpius likes studying things, Albus has known that for years. He loves his books and his classes, and every new discovery is like a eureka moment for him, full of wonder and excitement. And kissing is no different. He’s an excellent student in these dark arts, and he’s putting all his research to brilliant use right now, because apparently, in life as well as magic, practical prowess is as important as theoretical knowledge. 

There’s a quiet, underlying confidence in everything Scorpius does, that’s blossomed over the last few years. Once he’s set his mind on something, nothing will stand in his way, and so it is here. He runs a hand intently down Albus’s chest, finding every single one of the spots that makes him shiver and catch his breath. His other hand is sunk deep into Albus’s hair, holding him still, or manipulating him as he sees fit. Searching for comfortable angles, or deeper angles, the ones where he’s at liberty to take more, or less, to just play around with this new found control. 

For several seconds he just toys with Albus’s bottom lip, and he seems so curious about it, about the things he can achieve with his own tongue and lips and teeth, that even though it’s becoming bruised to the point of aching, Albus doesn’t want to pull away. 

So far the only bad thing Albus has to say about this bathroom is that the pool is almost too deep. His feet are nowhere near the bottom, and his hands are very much otherwise occupied (at the moment clinging to Scorpius’s waist and shoulder), and he doesn’t want to drown so he has to keep kicking to stay afloat. But Scorpius’s improvisational skills have improved dramatically over the years, and he’s doing a very good job of getting Albus irretrievably hard, whether he knows it or not, and there’s nothing Albus can really do about it. Or maybe there is, but he doesn’t currently have the capacity to figure it out.

Eventually he pulls away, struggling to catch his breath. He splashes to the side and hangs on for support.

“Okay, Albus?” Scorpius asks, holding on beside him. His lips are all bruised now, and his eyes are bright, hair ruffled where Albus was messing with it earlier.

Albus nods. “Good. Very good. Um, Scorpius?" 

"Yes?” Scorpius creeps closer and runs his fingers down Albus’s stomach. Albus’s breath stutters and he closes his eyes.

He swallows hard. “I could do with some help getting off… Please.” The last is almost a whine, and it makes Scorpius’s hand stop just frustratingly short of where it needs to go. He opens his eyes and sees Scorpius peering down into the water, and he desperately wishes there weren’t so many bubbles in the way, because the idea of Scorpius looking unblushingly down at his own excellent work is a really good one, one that they’ve barely ever been able to explore before. They’ve always been hidden beneath blankets, or half clothed, or been preoccupied with trying to be quiet, and Albus finds that he can’t wait for the day when they’re both utterly exposed to each other. 

“Could you?” Scorpius asks, innocent and curious, although his voice is lower, softer, and his hand has been withdrawn entirely now. Deliberately teasing. 

“Yes,” Albus says, frustrated, through gritted teeth. “Scorpius.” He doesn’t mean to sound as desperate as he does, but every word and glance from Scorpius now is making hot pressure well inside him, and he can’t wait.

Scorpius puts his back against the wall, holds on with one hand, and takes Albus’s hand with the other, pulling him in. Albus hangs onto the wall too, and is desperately happy to feel Scorpius’s thigh, solid and strong, push between his legs. Thank Dumbledore for all that Quidditch training.

Scorpius lets go of his hand and gently lifts his chin so he can kiss him again. More gently this time, and Albus is happy to reciprocate but he needs to breathe too, so he ends up resting his forehead on Scorpius’s shoulder as he grinds himself towards relief.

Scorpius’s fingers whisper up and down his spine for a few seconds, sending little thrills coursing through his body, then Scorpius’s arm winds round his waist and holds him tighter and closer, pulling him in. Albus can feel that he’s hard too, and looking for purchase Albus is only too willing to provide. 

Albus pulls himself closer to the wall, pinning Scorpius in, pushing his knees into the hard edges of the tiles in the hope of giving Scorpius something more to work with. It’s better for him too. More friction. Less water trapped between them. 

Scorpius’s grip tightens on his waist and he gives a high pitched little whimper of delight. Albus looks up and sees his head falling back, eyes closed, mouth open slightly as he gasps in shallow breaths. He’s shaking slightly, body taut, and it’s the sight of it all that sends Albus over the edge. He comes, and he can feel Scorpius doing the same. 

Somehow Scorpius has the wherewithal to keep them both afloat. Albus puts his head on his chest and stays there in his arms, warm and content, with bubbles frothing around his body and the scent of apple blossom in the air. 

Scorpius’s fingers comb through his wet hair, and he closes his eyes. The water laps gently against his body and behind his eyelids he can see the brightness of the room filtering through as a messy, golden glow. He feels relaxed, and very happy. 

“Good improvising,” he mumbles eventually, and Scorpius gives a tiny laugh that vibrates through his chest. 

“I think I’ve got quite good at it,” he says happily. 

Albus nods and looks up at him. “I think so too. And you can certainly bring me back here again. This is a good bathroom.”

Scorpius grins and hugs him. “And you’re a good person to share it with." 

They lie there together in the candlelit pool for a while after that, sometimes floating lazily, sometimes not. Eventually the less durable bubbles start to melt away and their skin starts to wrinkle. Both sated and clean, they drag their heavy limbs out of the water, wrap themselves up in their robes, and head back through the castle to Slytherin house. There they crawl into Scorpius’s bed, pull the hangings, and fall asleep, nestled happily together, dreaming of bubbles, and candles, and apple blossom scent.


End file.
